Knight of Khaine: Blackpowder Rain
by SpartAl412
Summary: When a freezing rain begins to fall upon the forests of the Empire, a wandering elven warrior seeks shelter in the home of a common citizen of the Empire. As the warrior waits out the weather, an odd relationship buds between the two as the minions of Chaos continue their rampage across lands of Men.


Rain softly pattered against the windows as a slight grey mist filled the air outside of the town called Delberz and down below towards the muddy streets, crowds huddled under what shelter they could find as they waited for the rain to pass. At least it was warm in this inn, thought Elisa Schiller as she quietly sat upon a wooden rocking chair while swaying back and forth in the way her old grandmother once did. It was not the sort of thing she was used to, thought the peasant woman as she quietly recollected on all that had transpired within the last several days.

Garbed in a worn, cotton dress with short sleeves, a low neckline, and a skirt which was somewhat torn up from what had happened. Elisa had dark brown hair which reached to her chin with skin slightly tanned from years working under the sun and eyes of similar color which reflected what she saw outside. All in all, she would look not different than most folk probably would across the Empire and she could easily blend in with those crowds below.

She had lived in a farmstead once, built by her father who had died along with her mother many years ago from a wasting sickness. It had been a hard but quiet life she had with many days spent tending to the crops and livestock as well as various other chores needed to keep a farm going. How foolish had she thought herself, believing that the beastmen herd would not bother with such an insignificant place such her home.

She had nothing now, no home to go back to and no friends to take her in for they had all either fled or been killed the beastmen, she had never married in her younger years and at her age, would now be considered a spinster. It was a cruel mercy she thought, to survive what she had gone through and now had now idea on what to do. There was one thing at least which brightened her thoughts and that was her recent "travelling companion" who would soon be departing to, Rhya knows where and leaving her alone in this place.

It hurt in a way, to be left alone after all that had happened between them but it would be for the best she reminded herself. She was not fighter like her companion, not a heroic being worthy of tale and legend whose deeds would have inspired minstrels and bards to write songs and sagas. Her thoughts then drifted to their first meeting and how unexpected it was that it would somehow lead them to where they were now.

* * *

_A week earlier…_

Rain poured heavily from the dark clouds above as a natural wind strongly blew and the branches of the trees rustled as leaves were swept away. Clad in a once shining suit of plate armour which bore several rents and dents, the High Elf warrior known as Khorieus Alatanrieth quietly stood underneath the eaves of an oak tree. Having called upon the magic within his lion cloak, the _Asur_ watched as a raiding band of Slaaneshi Chaos Marauders were pillaging a human farmstead.

For days now, he had been tracking these loathsome savages who had been responsible for the massacre of a number human refugee groups displaced by the recent warpath of the beastmen herds. The elf observed the barbarians with contempt as several them tried to take livestock first while a smaller group of six were busy trying to break down the front door of a fortified farmhouse. Despite the laughter and roars of the marauders which was mixed with the screams of animals and the falling rain, Khorieus could hear the high pitched screams coming from inside the building and he knew that he had to be swift.

Drawing his Ellyrion-crafted bow and fitting an arrow upon the string, arcane rime coated the head of the projectile as the elf aimed it at one particularly hideous marauder who bore three arms and several mouths around his body while carrying a pair of small pigs. Letting the arrow loose, the marauder soon jerked his head back as the shot struck the man in the eye and he dropped the pigs which scampered away while collapsing to his knees. Another marauder was quick to notice his comrade's demise but had been unable to make a call for help after an arrow struck the corrupted human on the side of the neck

Switching to another target, Khorieus suddenly heard the loud boom of a black powder weapon being fired from inside the farmhouse. Briefly glancing to the structure, he saw the body of a marauder land on his back while the head of the human had been blown into countless small chunks of meat, bone and blood while a large hole had been blown through the front door. The Marauders around the farmhouse were taken aback for a moment but were quick to turn their attention to the occupants within the house.

Drawing another arrow from his quiver, the Chracian sighted down upon the back of a Marauder whose body was almost completely covered in runic tattoos which were painful to look upon. The tattooed marauder kicked down the front door and an ice coated arrow found its way into the back of his throat before he could take a step inside. The elf then began to loudly shout insults and profanities towards the Marauders in the Norse tongue and the barbarians quickly turned their attentions to him.

Firing another arrow which struck a barbarian in the knee, he stowed his bow away and pulled out his great axe for the elf did not desire to wait for them to come to him. Sprinting towards the Marauders by the doorway, he roared the name of Khaine while holding his axe with both hands and keeping the head of the weapon close to the ground. As he closed the distance, Khorieus swept his axe in an upwards arc which cleaved a twin sword wielding Marauder from groin to jaw and he spun to his right while delivering a swift kick into the chest of another.

The barbarian was staggered by the attack while the elf quickly buried his axe deep into the neck of another marauder and he left it there. The fourth marauder equipped with an axe and shield rushed Khorieus who anticipated such a thing by pulling his hunting knife out from its sheath and he threw the blade at the barbarian. The marauder howled in agony as the knife embedded into his right eye and the Chracian thrust his right palm towards the hilt of the blade and he jammed it deeper into the savage's head and causing the barbarian to collapse.

The other Marauder of whom Khorieus had kicked, thrust a short spear at the elf who quickly grabbed the pole-arm below the spearhead and he quickly pulled it towards him with all of his might. The spearhead stabbed into the empty space between the Chracian's right arm and waist while his left hand balled up into a fist and he delivered a quick punch which crushed the human's wind pipe. The Marauder collapsed to his knees as struggled for breath and the High Elf glared at the barbarian with nothing but disdain and hate.

Swiftly placing his gauntleted hands around the horned, helmeted head of the Marauder, Khorieus gave a sharp and strong twist which generated a loudly satisfying crack as he snapped the man's neck.

'_Faen ta deg_!' roared a rather skinny looking Marauder who was charging at the High Elf with a throwing axe raised high.

As Khorieus was about to move out of the way, he heard a series of footsteps from within the farmhouse which was soon followed by another loud boom from a black powder weapon. The left hip of the Marauder exploded with blood as a volley of lead bullets slammed into the human and the marauder crashed to the muddy ground along with the throwing axe. The marauder then began to make pained noises as he tried to reclaim his throwing axe and the High Elf narrowed his eyes while pulling out his bow.

Slowly walking towards the fallen marauder with the rain still pouring, it did not take long for Khorieus to go up to the corrupted human. The marauder, who was a blonde haired man with blue eyes, was looking up at the high elf with anger and hate. By his guess thought Khorieus, the Marauder was probably less then two decades old, still quite young he supposed by the standards which humans counted time.

Noticing that the remaining Marauders were making a run for it, Khorieus raised his right boot over the prone barbarian and he stomped down on the lad's head. The Marauder's did not make it far for their movements were slow and clumsy to his eyes as he swiftly unleashed a volley of rime encrusted arrows which pierced vital organs and would cause those same bodily parts to black with frostbite as the magic placed upon his arrows did their work. As the last of the fleeing Marauders fell, he barely noticed the lack of movement from the barbarian he had stomped the head of, best make sure that the savage was dead he thought as he turned his gazed to the fallen throwing axe.

* * *

Moaning in pain as her head had struck the floorboards; Elisa's vision swam as an intense soreness coursed through her chest. The heavy blunderbuss which had once belonged to her father was a lot stronger than she had expected for twice the sheer power of its recoil was enough to throw her off of her feet. Hearing the sound of heavy footsteps, her eyes widened in alarm at the thought of northmen inside of her home.

Looking to the where the front door of her home had once been, Elisa's saw a pale, wraith-like creature with icy, cold blue eyes which regarded her with faint interest. To her horror, she saw that clutched in the left hand of the wraith was the severed head of a blonde haired young man (the northman she had just shot she quickly realized) which dripped with both water and blood as a massive, bloodied axe was held in the other hand of the wraith. Her mind began to tell her to grab the blunderbuss or run but her limbs betrayed her as she remained rooted in place.

The wraith then took a step closer to her and she felt the tides of terror rise up within her.

'You have little need to fear me, human' came the deep, baritone voice of the wraith who dropped the severed head upon the floor and set his axe down as well while maintaining eye contact with her. The wraith's eyes seemed to peer into her very soul and she dreaded the possibility that the creature who steal it from her.

Elisa stuttered something, she tried to beg for the thing to leave her and she saw the wraith place its hands around its head. The wraith then looked down for a moment and it removed what must surely be a helmet and revealing a shock of long, silvery white hair. Her eyes widened as a realization set in and she understood that standing before her was not one of the restless dead but an all together different creature of legend.

'A-an, an elf?' she stuttered as she also realized just how massive this particular creature was.

'I know what I am, human' spoke the elf as he rolled his eyes. 'I require shelter until the weather clears and I am willing to make my stay worth your time' said the elf who bent down on knee and he lowered his head while bringing his face closer to hers.

Feeling light headed as the terror she had just felt warred with the waves of awe towards the creature that had just saved her, Elisa felt her consciousness ebb away as a darkness filled her vision. The peasant woman fainted with her head hitting the floorboard again and she did not hear the sigh of frustration from her guest.

* * *

Placing his hands near a blazing hearth and enjoying the heat from it, Khorieus felt glad to finally be out of the freezing rain. Having divested himself of his sodden war gear which was neatly set out near the hearth, Khorieus had taken the liberty to search the building for anything he could use to cover himself and was now wrapped with a linen blanket. A cold wind blew from the open door way which had been kicked down by the Marauders and the High Elf supposed he could try to fix it for over the centuries, he had pick up some skill in carpentry.

The lone human woman who had inhabited the farmhouse was laid upon a wooden bench and still rather unconscious. For sake of safety for both himself and the human, he had made sure to place the black powder weapon by a corner close to the door where he could see it. He had no idea why anyone would choose to build a farmstead in a place as dangerous as the forests of _Elthin Arvan _which were often rife with beastmen and greenskins.

It would have been quite simple for one such as himself to quickly kill a single, unarmed woman but the idea of such base murder rankled at him for the human had not given him a reason to do so. Besides, he was now a guest in this human's home and it would be against proper decorum for a highborn such as himself and as an _Asur_ to show any rudeness, even towards a member of the lesser races. And so he continued to warm himself by the fire and he began to enter a state of reverie which was filled with nostalgia.

For several long minutes, he stared into the fires as he lost himself in the memories of the past. The burning peaks of Caledor blazed within his mind as he also rather fondly remembered the face of a Dragon Princess he had known rather well in his younger years, long before he had met Laneleis. He remembered the infernos which once blazed across Druchii forts and settlements in Naggaroth as he and a band of Shadow Warriors and Reaver Knights cleared a path for Lord Eltharion's army.

A slight smile creased upon his lips as he remembered all of the Druchii he had slain in that campaign and the vengeance both he and the Nagarthyians had wrought. Perhaps when he was done with this particularly troublesome army of beastmen, he should stick to the coasts of the Empire and wait for the hated kin to come with their raids. As he stood there by the fires, his reverie was interrupted as he heard the human stir back into consciousness.

Best make a good first impression he thought as he turned away from the hearth and went towards his host while making sure to bring his coin purse with him. From his experience, humans could often be easily swayed with the promise of coin and wealth.

* * *

The contents of the iron pot bubbled and steamed over the stove as Elisa stirred the wooden ladle to help mix the ingredients which gave of a delicious aroma. It was a good thing she supposed that when the northmen had attacked, she had yet to begin with cooking for otherwise, it would be overcooked by now. The gentle sound of the pounding continued by the entrance of her home as the elf re-installed the door and did what he could to repair the damage.

When Elisa had awoken, she found the elf to be waiting for her and at first; she had been rather intimidated by him. She could still hardly believe that in her very home, a creature she knew only from tales and stories would be rooming in until the weather clears. The elf who had called himself, Khorieus was a warrior and a wanderer of sorts and despite her fears, she was actually glad that he had come along when the northmen did.

She had gone out into the rain to check on her livestock and was furious that the barbarians had not only rattled up her cows, chickens, sheep and pigs but had also killed a few of them already. The elf had been nice enough to assist her in butchering the bodies so the meat did not go to waste and she had been surprised by how quickly and efficiently he had worked in cutting up the animals. The stew would be ready soon she thought as she brought up a large chunk of boiled beef and she placed back into the stew of meat and vegetables.

The elf was not the first person to come to her home and seeking shelter and she doubted that he would be the last. One time, it had been a group of men who claimed to be "lost" State Troops (deserters most likely) who had attempted to steal her livestock and take advantage of her, thankfully though that ended with no one getting hurt, especially after she pointed her father's blunderbuss at their leader and demanded that they give up their weapons and go away. Another time during the last winter, it had been a pair of outlandish looking dwarfs with orange crests of hair; one of them had a funny accent while the other was rather nice in a gruff sort of way who seemed very protective of a book he was carrying.

The pounding stopped shortly afterwards and she heard the footsteps of the elf as he came towards the kitchen. Looking to her guest who emerged from the doorway with a sudden silence and a sort of gracefulness which seemed impossible to emulate, Elisa found herself getting a little flustered as well for she found the elf as of also being rather remarkably handsome.

'It is done' calmly announced the elf who was covered in a dried blanket with his thick mane of long hair undone and reaching down towards chest level.

'Well the stew is almost ready' replied Elisa as she gestured towards an old wooden dining table with three chairs and upon its surface, two clay bowls had been set with iron spoons lying beside them. The elf nodded and silently moved towards the table and for a moment, Elisa was somewhat unnerved by how silent her guess could move. Her guest sat himself on the chair which her father used to occupy and he remained quiet while patiently waiting.

When the stew was finished, she carried the pot towards the table with the elf offering to carry it for her but Elisa declined and soon they were both quietly eating with their insides being nicely warmed up. Looking at the elf, she felt herself wishing to ask many questions about him and his people but could not find the courage to do so.

'You wish to say something, human?' asked the elf who raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

Slightly startled by this, Elisa felt rather bashful and she stuttered 'well I was just wondering… you know with you being what you are and all…' The elf slightly tilted his head to one side and Elisa began to mentally curse herself for sounding like some sort of village idiot and she could see that he was somewhat amused by it. 'Well, I just wanted to ask about you and-'

'You wish to know more about we _Asur_ then?' interrupted the elf who gave a soft smile and replied 'I have time to speak of it.'

* * *

Tightly holding on to a length of chains which connected to a collar of dark, runic iron, Jorleif Haedregson allowed the barking Chaos Hound which was one amongst a pack of nine to lead him to that which they hunted. He was accompanied by a war band of three dozen men; each of the Norscans proudly wore the red and brass coloured armours which displayed the sigils of the Blood God. Each man sought glory in the eyes of Khorne and that glory came in the form of a formidable warrior who had been wreaking havoc among the beastmen herds.

Tales were told by the beastmen of a Daemon which took the form of an elf with a burning axe. Many claimed that this, daemon-elf was an avatar of Blood God's for the warherds which had dominated this latest rampage were those more dedicated the Plague God. Jorleif did not put much stock in what the beastmen had to say, all he and his warband cared about was the death of this elf and offering his skull to Khorne.

The hounds which accompanied them were specially bred and trained by the Zealots of Tchar, the God of Change and Sorcery to hunt down specific pray through the mystic sight used by magicians. Each of the beasts were mystically attuned to this elf by sorcerous means which Jorleif neither understood nor did he care to. What did matter was that whether the hounds would lead them to the elf or not and in the days since they had begun their search, they had found a trail of beastmen and the occasional greenskin or fellow northman corpse.

The cold rain hardly bothered the band of Khornate warriors who were each used to the harsh winters of their homeland. Their boots splashed against the mud and muck of the forest as they carried on with their search until eventually, the hounds began to become more agitated. The beasts began to snap and bark, signaling to the warriors that their prey was near.

Soon, they came into sight with a series of simple wooden structures; a farm reckoned Jorleif as he noticed the lights behind the windows and he knew that it was occupied. Good, grinned the Khornate Aspiring Champion as he began to send orders to his warrior.

'Blood For the Blood God!' roared Jorleif as he felt the anger and rage of Khorne build up while his warriors shouted in unison 'Skulls for the Skull Throne!'

* * *

Quietly looking to the fires of the hearth once more while sitting cross legged upon the floor board, Khorieus silently meditated upon his recent battles. Every strike he had lashed out, every dodge, block and parry was remembered and every kill was recalled with perfect clarity. It was shaping up to be a good campaign he thought with amusement for he had been able to fight and slay a wide variety of foes from lowly ungors, regiments of bestigors, minotaurs and even a mighty Chaos Giant.

He was not quite sure if the beastmen had a particular place in mind which they were planning on razing, then again, the brutish creatures were quite like greenskins who just go out and start wars for the hell of it. He had expected that after the fall of the Great Unclean One, the activity of the creatures would have died down a bit but instead it seemed that they are hardly bothered by it. Perhaps there was a greater intellect guiding them he thought? Some malevolent mastermind which bound the fractious creatures together?

He had heard tales of a mighty beastlord called Khazrak One-Eye which haunted this region of the Empire and he wondered if this being was their leader. As much as Khorieus would dearly love to test his axe against this particular beastlord, he was fairly sure that such a creature was nowhere near his current location and the forests of the Drakwald were a large place. With a shrug, the High Elf decided to just kill every chaos tainted creature he saw and deal with things as they come along.

Hopefully the rain would let up soon he thought for he did not fancy the idea of hunting for more enemies while being soaked and chilled to the bone for every second. At the least, his host had been gracious enough to let him stay and unlike particular wood elf mage he had made the acquaintance of, the human knew well enough not to ask too many questions. Earlier, he had given his host her black powder weapon and he quietly if perhaps he may have made a mistake for in his experience with humans as well, he found that they could be rather skittish and prone to accidentally harming others.

As his mind eased and he prepared to rest, he heard the loud screeches of the livestock again, along with a loud series of barks which set his nerves on edge. Quickly getting up while grabbing his axe, the high elf went towards the nearest window and he saw the dark forms of more marauders.

'Lord of Murder!' hissed Khorieus as he tightened the grip upon his axe. He recognized the red and brass armour of these marauders for he was finding these Khornate skull-hunters to become rather tiresome. Readying himself to get another earful of "Blood for the Blood God" or "Skulls for the Skull Throne", Khorieus suddenly then remembered his host of whom had retired to her own quarters.

Quickly wondering if he should go up and warn the human, he saw the barbarians draw closer to the house with weapons readied. Unsure as of whether he might still have time to put on his armour or not for he was now only wearing a set of trousers, Khorieus saw the barbarians release their hounds which began to swiftly bound towards the front door. Soon he heard the loud pounding as one of the hounds slammed its bulk against the doorway which he had just attempted to repair and a loud crack filled the air as the door was knocked down again.

Clearly being a carpenter was out of the question if he ever decided to settle down for a career which did not somehow involve fighting. The closest Chaos Hound which resembled a wolf with eyes like those of a common fly and fur which seemed more like the feathers of a bird, leapt towards him with a slavering jaw and sharpened fangs. Stepping aside from its path and slamming the bottom of his axe upon the side of the hound's head, he did not have time to finish it for the next hound was already upon him.

The second hound leapt towards the High Elf who managed to catch its teeth with the haft of his axe and he delivered a sharp knee kick into its belly which felt like he had struck the scaled hide of a Nauglir. Attempting once to pull his axe free, he had been unsuccessful in doing as the hound tightly held on to it and Khorieus was forced to abandon his heirloom weapon lest he be flanked by the other hounds and he also had no time to get the rest of his equipment as well. Running barefooted and unarmed as quickly as he could while the other hounds chased him, he heard the sounds of footsteps from above and he knew that the human would coming down to investigate the commotion.

'Whats going on down there!?' came the voice of the human woman as he could hear her feet near the stairway

'Shoot the Hounds!' Khorieus shouted as he saw the confused and shocked look on the woman's face as she tightly held on to the black powder weapon and she hastily began to take aim as a the Chaos Hounds gave chase to the Asur. The loud blast of the gunpowder weapon rang out as the human woman was knocked off of her and a hound behind Khorieus suddenly exploded in a shower of viscera along with a part of the wooden floorboards.

Rushing up the stairs, he glanced back to see the hounds as they drew closer, it was only the natural speed which his kind were blessed with which kept Khorieus from being surrounded by the mutated beasts. As he ascended the staircase and reached the top, he swiftly spun around and delivered a powerful kick into the chin of hound with enough force to knock it along with others from its pack down the stairs. Pain shot up the toes of the high elf who felt like he had just stubbed it but was forced to ignore the pain as he rushed towards the human who was slowly getting back up to her feet.

Grabbing the human female by the shoulders, it took Khorieus only a single swift motion to carry her upon his both of his arms as he made sure to grab the black powder weapon as well. Looking about for a moment, he found himself to be in a short corridor with several closed doorways, one of which was open and he made a run towards the entrance. It took only a few seconds for the Chracian to carry his host to what must surely be the bedroom of the farmhouse and it was not lost upon him how the situation would look had it not been for the chaos slaves hunting him.

Switching his hold on the human female so he could carry her with one arm, he used his free on to work the locks on it. Soon the hounds began to scratch and pound at the door which would not hold them for long and for a moment, Khorieus was glad that there was not enough space for the beasts to pick up enough momentum to just barrel into the door. Taking a step back, he turned around to survey the bedroom and he saw a single window which he was not sure that he could even fit through.

Muttering a curse as he looked for at least something he could use as a weapon, he quickly noticed a trio of sheathed swords which were propped on one corner opposite of where he was. How convenient he thought with a bit of suspicion but had not time to question his good fortunes as he set the dazed human woman on her bed and he went towards the weapons. Grabbing one sword and unsheathing it, Khorieus noted that it was the kind of sword commonly used by Imperial soldiers and at the least, it looked to be in a decent condition.

Unsheathing another sword and soon dual-wielding two weapons, he turned to face the doorway which was already splintering. Giving a few practice swings just to get a feel of the two blades, Khorieus quickly then shifted into an aggressive stance and he saw the door breakdown with the hounds coming through. One hound which had a writhing mane of leech-like tentacles got ahead of the others of its pack and it leapt towards Khorieus who swiftly swung his right-handed sword at the hound's face.

The blade cleaved the hound's head in twain as blood spattered the high elf who was quick to engage the next one. He impaled the next hound in the spine at the base of the neck before catching the teeth of another with one of his blades before quickly gutting another. Using his superior speed, Khorieus became a whirlwind of flashing steel as he slashed and stabbed at the hounds with his rage granting him greater strength.

Beheading another hound and stabbing another through the maw, he had to admit that the "sessions" he had participated with Lady Kayren of Laurelorn's Swordwing Clan had begun to pay off. Unlike the warriors which Khorieus had recently fought alongside with, he was not as swift or as acrobatic as they were but he made up for it with a mixture of strength, ferocity and precision. Despite the lack of room to maneuver within, it actually worked to Khorieus advantage so that he did not have to face the pack all at once.

Hearing the rough sounds of shouting from the barbarians as they ascended the staircase, he heard the human woman yelp in terror as he slashed out the throat of the last remaining hound. Glancing towards Elisa, he saw the terror in her eyes and a part of him reveled in it but quickly that part was drowned out by the other which always sought battle.

* * *

Elisa's eyes widened in horror as she saw the elf who was now covered head to toe in blood. The mutated beasts which had broken into her home now lay dead around his feet, two gore-stained swords were clenched in the elf's hands as he regarded with an almost feral madness. Deep voices speaking in the familiar accents of the northmen were heard from outside of her room and the elf looked to the doorway with a savage smile.

The elf let out a loud roar like some sort of wild beast before rushing out of her bedroom and soon she heard the sounds of clashing steel and men dying. Frantically looking about to find something to protect herself with, she saw her father's blunderbuss laid upon the foot of her bed but decided not to use it for the weapon was simply just too strong for her. She still had some of the weapons the deserters had left behind such as the swords which the elf had taken two of.

For a moment, she remained unsure whether she should assist the elf or not for it was clear that he was a skilled fighter. As the sound of fighting continued, Elisa knew that she could not stand by with northmen in her home, what if they killed the elf? If that happened, she could expect the barbarians to rape, kill and flay her. With a desperate prayer to Ulric, Taal, Sigmar and whatever gods might hear her, Elisa just grabbed the blunderbuss and she went for the twin pouches of shot and powder she kept in a drawer by her bed.

Her father had once been a Coachman, a hazardous career which involved driving a carriage from one part of the Empire to another, carrying passengers or goods for chartered coaching companies. She and her mother also had some suspicions that her father may have also dealt with some less than savory figures as well but such was no longer a concern now. Remembering the lessons her father had given her in operating and using a firearm, she loaded the powder and shot while placing the ramrod inside to make sure it was all packed in.

A chill went up her spine as she heard the barbarians continuously roar the name, Khorne, one of the Dark God of the Ruinous Powers. Another round of cheers came from the barbarians as they praised that awful name again and Elisa's heart sank at the thought that the elf may have been killed. With her heart pounding like a drum and terror began to overwhelm her senses, Elisa paused as she looked at the doorway, expecting for the northmen to come for her.

Suddenly, she heard the voice of the elf again as he unleashed another roar but this time it was not a wordless, animalistic cry. She clearly heard the elf, praising the name of another dark god, one associated with murderers, assassins and footpads. Another chill went up her spine as she heard the elf praise the name of Khaine, the Bloody-Handed One and the Lord of Murder.

* * *

Ignoring the pain which seared across his left waist, Khorieus kept his eyes on the Khornate warriors ahead of him as his mind was supremely focused on them. The Imperial swords which he had claimed were now stained with the blood of both men and hounds as the murder-lust consumed him. If the followers of the Khorne bayed for blood, then he would be glad to show them their own first.

With a prayer to Khaine upon his lips, he launched himself again at the barbarians within the corridor. The architecture of the structure proved advantageous for Khorieus as it allowed him to fight the barbarians one at a time where his speed, strength and centuries worth of experience gave him the edge he needed. Ducking under the twin, scissoring swings of a marauder's axes, the High Elf brought both of his swords up and he impaled the corrupted human in the gut, lightly lifting the marauder, he proceeded to swiftly pull his blades out along with the man's entrails and he delivered a sharp kick which knocked the fatally wounded man into one of his comrades.

Leaping back to avoid an overhead swing from a heavy Norscan sword, Khorieus looked towards the next barbarian of whom was a more ornately armoured Marauder who had horns like those of a Bloodletter growing out of his skull. Quickly deducing that this warrior must be the leader of the Marauders, Khorieus simply glared at the barbarian while giving him a look of challenge. The Marauder understood the elf's intent and he shouted an order to his warriors to hold back.

The Marauders obeyed their leader and from the Blood God's name, they began chanting the name, "Jorleif". Remembering the battle at sea against the Khronate Champion, Rjorn Bloodbull, he hoped that this warrior proved to be a good fighter as well. Like most marauders, this Jorleif was clad in a barbarically styled set of armour which revealed too much flesh such as around the chest, arms and legs with the only really protected points of his foe was the head which was covered by a face concealing horned helmet, wrists, forearms and gut.

Although the High Elf himself was rather exposed as he only wore a pair of trousers, he had been caught by surprise and were it up to him, he would have faced the barbarians in full war gear. Moving into a defensive stance while waiting for the Marauder leader to make his move, he heard the chant of the barbarians end as Jorleif raised one hand to silence them and he began to speak in a thickly accented but understandable Reikspiel.

'I am Jorleif Haedregson!' announced the chaos leader and Khorieus felt annoyed at having to hear yet again the boasts which the followers of Chaos always seemed to favor. The High Elf listened with disinterest to the Norscan as he went on about how many men he had killed, the women he had made into widows and the children who had become orphans because of him.

As the barbarian spoke, he felt the footsteps upon the floorboards behind him and he saw the human woman carrying her black powder weapon which must now surely be loaded.

'Get out of my house!' shouted the Imperial while trying to sound brave and intimidating while doing a spectacularly terrible job at it.

The marauders laughed at the peasant woman with one of them loudly speaking some rather disgustingly vulgar things which they planned to do with her. The human woman then leveled her gun towards them and Khorieus widened his eyes as he leapt to the side and pressed himself to nearest wall. Once more the gun went off, and with such power that the hail of lead balls slammed into Jorleif, tearing the overly exposed Marauder's flesh apart along with the two barbarians closest to him.

A stunned silence fell upon the marauders as their leader slumped dead and as Khorieus quickly got himself back up, he was glad to at least not have to listen more of the savage's prattling. Back to killing he eagerly thought as he did not give the marauders time to recover and he launched himself at them again with another prayer to Khaine upon his lips. He may not have been able to kill their leader, but their were enough of the savages to slake his own blood-lust.

* * *

_Presently…_

She probably would have been dead or made slave by the northmen thought Elisa as she continued to watch the rain outside pour from above. After shooting the leader of the marauders, the elf had practically slaughtered the rest with a few of them escaping. Little did both the peasant woman and the elf know that those surviving northmen would bring more of their friends back to her farmstead.

When the Chaos followers eventually came back, the elf stayed and helped defend her farmstead until there were simply too many for even the elf to handle. What had followed afterwards were many terrifying days of being chased and along the way, the elf had even showed her a bit on how to properly wield a sword. It was so surreal really, how the elf became so terrifying and savage in battle, almost like the marauders or the beastmen he so eagerly slew and yet as soon as the fighting was over, he became quite pleasant and even charming to have around.

Once more, she felt herself brighten up at the thought of the elf who was quite not like any man she had ever met, then again though, there was the fact that he was not even a Man in the first place. It may have just been the stress of being in that sort of situation thought Elisa as she sought comfort in the elf's warm presence. In the end Elisa really did not care for she was glad that he had stayed by her side, especially on the multiple times where the elf could have easily abandoned her.

With a resigned grunt Elisa finally then decided oh why the hell not as she finally got up from her seat and went towards the door leading out of the room. Opening the door which created a gentle creek of wood, she emerged into the hallway where across her room was the elf's own. Taking a deep breath, she walked towards the door on the opposite end and she gently knocked upon it.

'Come in' came the deep voice of the elf and she opened the door to find him quietly sitting cross legged with his mighty axe resting upon his lap with his eyes closed. 'Frau Schiller' spoke the elf rather warmly as he remained motionless while wearing robes of white and red cloth.

Feeling her heart begin to beat a bit faster as she began to feel a bit warm inside, Elisa gulped down a lump in her throat while beginning to have second thoughts. Keeping on her current course, she steeled herself and closed the door behind her. The gentle sound of the door's lock clicked in the hallway.

'Frau Schiller?' repeated the deep voice of Khorieus in curiosity and after a moment of silence one would have heard the elf give a rather surprised "oh?"

The sounds from the locked room which soon followed was not one to speak of in polite company.


End file.
